Page 31 of Forever Not Yours

“We ended up going to the gents’, and he fucked me. Right there and then. I didn’t even have the sense to insist on protection, but he was a good one.Condom and everything. I was so wrung out afterwards that he got worried and put me in a taxi. Came with me and let me inside. Kept asking if I was okay.”

“Nice man.”

“I never saw him again. Don’t even know his name. Must’ve scared the shit out of him.”

“How so?”

How so? Being fucked did that to me. Put me in that haze. Took me almost out of my own body. Freedom. Fucking weird shit that was better than any drug I’d ever tried.

“Addictive.”

He laughed softly. “Sex is, sometimes. When you figure out what makes you tick, it’s hard to go back. I like to fuck. Hard. I love men. I love arse. And I love how it makes me feel when someone lets go and I get to give that to them. Sex. With all it entails.”

He sounded like he was holding a lecture. The smile on my face felt uncertain compared to his happy grin.

“I like what you did to me.” That was a hard truth to admit.

“But you don’t like me like that. The feelings you have are not like the feelings I have for you.”

Trust him to put me back in my place. Straight talk.

I clammed back up, completely, like I could feel my skin turn inside out again. I hated it. Hated when I felt like that.

Then he took me home, sat me on the sofa and made us food. Watched me eat, while I struggled with every mouthful. I didn’t understand why, but I was out of control.

“Do you feel like you’ve done something wrong?” he suddenly asked, catching me off guard.

I said nothing. Wrong? Me? I couldn’t do anything right.

“Do you feel like there’s anything you need to do to make up for it?”

Stupid question. He realised that too and shifted in his seat, putting his plate down on the coffee table. Damn coffee table. I was starting to resent eating here, on the sofa. Perhaps I should buy him a dining table. Maybe I could pick up the one I had bought for Juliet? I still had things to collect from the flat. All my belongings. Stuff from the storage unit.

“Look at me,” he demanded. I did, because I was nothing, and he was the only one here.

“You haven’t done anything wrong today, nothing at all. You’ve been great company, and we’ve had a good day, haven’t we?”

He stopped and looked at me like he expected me to agree.

“It’s been nice,” I managed to get out.

“I think you’ve made some questionable life choices lately. And you have been reckless with the people who love you, I agree with Juliet on that. You’ve been stupid with your health, and your feelings, and you should have sorted yourself out ages ago.”

Yup. Tell me something I didn’t know. Then here were those gloves again. Bloody things, and how Jake was slowly donning them, one finger at a time being stretched into black leather. I could smell them from here.

He fastened the clasp over the back of one hand, then the other. “You should also have talked to me, and that is a really big mistake. A bad choice.”

I sighed. Last thing I needed was a lecture. Not here. Not right now. “Those your washing-up gloves?” I countered. I was being a dick, but so was he, and I hadno idea what he was up to.

“Bastien,” he said sternly, taking my plate from my hand and placing it next to his on the table. The clang of porcelain against glass was deafening in my ears. Too loud.

He was too close. Too intimate, his breath against my cheek as he softly brushed a gloved finger against my jaw. And again. I wanted to lean back, but instead, I leant in.

“I’m going to show you what I like. I will ask you questions, and you will answer them. Is that clear?” A finger across my mouth, the scent of leather strong. A little too strong.

Fear? God help me. I had no idea why this was turning me on.

Well. Maybe I did.

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